In Another Life
by ennaxxor
Summary: Vega and Wylie end up stuck in Houston after the League of Legends tournament. What happens next includes snark, a cooking show, and maybe (definitely) some kissing.


**A/N:** As coined by WeBuiltThePyramids, happy Wega Wednesday! This started because Nicole was telling me about a ridiculous cooking show she saw bits of, and my mind somehow jumped to Wylie and Vega being snarky while watching a bad cooking show. So here's some Wega fluff! (I imagine this in the same universe as my other Wega fic, The Keeper, but you don't have to read that to understand anything that's here.)

* * *

Vega was only halfway through the _Things to Do In Houston_ brochure she'd found on the desk before she tossed it aside. She wished she had _Chamber of Secrets_ with her – now would be a perfect time to read another few chapters – but she hadn't expected to have any downtime for reading on this trip. And she certainly hadn't expected that a surprise ice storm would close the major roads, leaving them stranded in Houston for the night.

Thankfully they'd had no problem finding a cheap hotel, and after an awkward goodnight in the hallway, she was left alone in her room. But it was still too early to go to sleep, and she was bored.

Not to mention that after spending the whole day with Wylie, she was also feeling a little lonely now that she was suddenly by herself.

Making a quick decision, she grabbed her key card and slipped it in her pocket, then left her hotel room to go and knock on the door next to hers. She heard a thud of something hard hitting the ground, and muffled curse, before the door opened a few seconds later.

"Vega! Is everything okay?"

"I'm bored."

"Oh. Um, okay…"

"So I thought I could hang out here for a little bit? Seeing as our night kind of got cut short anyway, with that three hour drive we were supposed to do."

Wylie's confusion at finding her at his door turned into a smile.

"Yeah, sure, come in."

He stepped aside to give her space to walk into the room, and Vega wondered where she should sit. Would he make assumptions if she sat on the bed? The only other option was the desk chair, and it looked rather uncomfortable.

But the issue was forgotten when she noticed what was on the TV.

"Are you watching a cooking show?" she asked, looking at Wylie in surprise. "I didn't peg you as the type."

"I'm not, really. But it was the only channel that came through without static. And it's actually been kind of entertaining, in its own way."

Vega looked back to the TV – it was a middle aged woman hosting the show, which was set in a nondescript kitchen.

"Seriously?"

"Just watch and wait," Wylie assured her, settling in on the left side of the bed. Vega sat down on the right side, leaning her back against the headboard.

She was seriously starting to doubt Wylie's judgment in what counted as entertainment until –

"Did she just compare the bread she's making to a _baby's bottom_?"

"Yeah. And you missed her calling it sensual earlier."

Vega shuddered.

"I may never be able to look at bread the same way again."

"I've never seen anyone so excited about flax seeds," Wylie said a minute later.

"I've never seen anyone excited about flax, period."

"I honestly don't even know what flax is."

"It's supposed to have a lot of fiber, I think. She's putting it in the cookies to make them healthier."

"Cookies aren't supposed to be healthy," Wylie muttered.

"Agreed. Oh – but this is recipe a _quite special_ to her."

Wylie snorted.

"Yeah, and I bet that bowl she's using is _quite wonderful_ as well."

"Please, Wylie. It's _superb_."

"_Now, this bowl, believe it or not, belonged to my grandmother -"_ Neither Wylie or Vega heard the rest of the cook's sentence as they both burst into laughter.

By the time they both had finally calmed down, the cook had turned things over to another woman who was demonstrating the proper way to crack an egg, and wasn't nearly as amusing. Wylie and Vega settled into silence as they continued to watch, though it didn't escape Vega's notice that Wylie kept looking over at her instead of the TV. She wondered how she hadn't really noticed his glances until Jane pointed it out, because now she could almost feel them, a pleasant tingle on the back of her neck and a warmth through her stomach…

"They make it look so easy," Wylie said, startling her out of her thoughts. Vega refocused on the TV, where it looked like they were mixing some kind of sauce.

"It's not _that_ hard, Wylie."

"The last time I tried to cook, I burned water."

"You can't actually burn water."

"Well it burned the pan, and water was all that was in it. I don't think that's much better."

Vega couldn't help but laugh again.

"What, like you're some great cook?" Wylie asked, his tone still light.

"_Actually_, I'm not too bad. It was pretty much just me and my dad, growing up, and I did a lot of cooking for us. Plus he helped me with some of my abuela's old recipes." She paused and her smile grew as she was hit with an idea. "You ever had Cuban food?"

Wylie slowly shook his head.

"You don't find much of that in Indiana."

"Okay - you're coming over sometime so I can cook for you, and you can discover what you've been missing. And it's more fun to cook when I'm not the only one eating."

Wylie grinned.

"Yeah. Yeah, that'd be cool."

"Cool."

They fell back into silence, and Vega felt the long day they'd had start to catch up to her. She stifled a yawn, and blinked a few times to keep her eyes from closing. Well, maybe she could close them for just a minute…

A hand was gently prodding her shoulder.

"Mich - Vega?"

She opened her eyes - the TV was off now.

"You fell asleep," Wylie said, looking unsure of himself. "I thought you'd probably want to go back to your room."

"Sorry," she said, sitting up slowly. "And yeah, thanks for waking me."

"Don't worry about it - we should probably get to sleep anyway. If we get an early start tomorrow hopefully we can beat the traffic."

Vega double-checked that she still had her room key, then stood and walked towards the door to the hallway, Wylie trailing behind. She put her hand on the doorknob, then dropped it and turned to face him.

"You can call me Michelle, if you want."

Wylie's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh - okay. Well, goodnight. Michelle."

"Goodnight."

For a moment Vega wonders how she got here, when it was just a few short weeks ago that she was telling Wyle - with his not so subtle crush - that she wanted to focus on work. But spending time with Wylie was fun, and easy, and she couldn't help it when she found herself drawn towards him.

Impulsively she stood on her toes to press a brief kiss to the corner of his mouth, grabbing his right arm with one hand to help steady herself. As she lowered herself back to the ground, Wylie leaned over to follow her, and his left hand rose from his side to rest on her lower back.

His lips brushed over hers gently, but before Vega could respond he was pulling away, his eyes wide.

"Is - is this okay? I mean, I know you said -"

"Do you really want to question this right now?" Vega asked, quirking an eyebrow. He quickly shook his head. "Good."

She cupped the back of his neck with her right hand to pull his head back down. The kiss was tentative, but still it sent unfamiliar butterflies loose in her stomach. Eager for more, Vega tried to deepen the kiss, even standing back on her toes in an attempt to get closer, but Wylie kept his kisses light, using his height to stay just out of reach of where she wanted him. It wasn't until she made a frustrated noise and felt his lips turn up in a smile that she realized he was fully aware of what he was doing and its effect on her.

Vega opened her eyes and pulled back slightly, but whatever she was going to say was forgotten when her eyes met his and she saw how _happy_ he looked. His smile was was contagious as ever, and she couldn't help but smile back.

Wylie leaned over to kiss her again, this time finally applying more pressure as he slanted his mouth against hers, and Vega hummed in appreciation. She lifted her left hand to join her right on the back of his neck, holding him close, and didn't realize she was walking backwards until her back hit the door.

His hands were now settled firmly on her hips, his fingers gently skimming the soft skin between her shirt and jeans. Vega shivered at the touch, but it also somehow cleared her mind. She slid her hands down to his chest to gently push him away, and the moment she did Wylie dropped his hands and hastily stepped back.

"Sorry -"

"Wylie, it's okay," Vega quickly reassured him, reaching out for his hands to keep him from moving further away. "Let's…. Let's just take things slow. Okay?"

Wylie nodded.

"Okay. Yeah." The corners of his mouth slowly turned back up, and Vega had to resist the urge to kiss him again. Lots of kissing when they were alone in a hotel room was not a recipe for going slow.

Instead, she gave his hands a squeeze before dropping them and reaching for the door behind her.

"Goodnight, Wylie."

"Night, Michelle."

Once she was back in her room, Vega collapsed on her bed, no longer even remotely tired. Morning couldn't come soon enough.


End file.
